The Curse
by frozenroses
Summary: The War is over but the Trio, Ginny & Draco find themselves in more danger than before. Now it's up to them to solve what just may be the biggest mystery of the Wizarding World & the life of a Muggle who might be the answer to all their questions
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

…

**Earning His Trust**

Harry laughed, watching Ginny speed past Ron to score a goal. Ten points to them.

"God, Weasley! Can't you do anything!" a voice called from high above the field.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy—I don't see _you_ down here flying your arse off!" the red-head answered back.

"And risk being knocked off my broom by you? Surely you jest..." the blonde sneered.

"Hey—why don't we call it a night? I still have to work on McGonagall's essay." Harry called out, once again the peacemaker.

"Yeah, and I still have loads of Charms homework to catch up on." Ginny agreed, filling in Hermione's shoes as Harry's backup.

"Oh, sure—quit while you're ahead…" Draco drawled, flying closer to them. "But next time, _I_ get Ginny."

"Hey!" exclaimed Ron who had joined the group just in time to hear Draco's last comment, "You're not all that great either you know…"

"Yeah, well, maybe if I were paired up with someone who actually _knew_ what they were _doing_ I might actually be motivated to do better." he shot back with a lazy roll of his silver eyes.

Harry chuckled, sharing a look with Ginny. '_Here they go again_,' his eyes seemed to say.

"C'mon, guys, let's turn in" Ginny laughed, sending a wink Harry's way. She flew over to him, holding out her hand with a smile. He accepted it, pulling her in for a kiss on the forehead.

"Oh, get a room!" Malfoy exclaimed just as Ron cried out, "Hey! Not in front of the brother!"

"Let's go before Harry decides your sister's tonsils are golden snitches and tries to catch one with his tongue or something…" Malfoy suggested to Ron who made a disgusted face at the image the Slytherin put into his head.

"Yeah, let's."

The two flew off, leaving Harry and Ginny to their laughter. Hand still entwined with the younger Weasley's, he watched the blonde and the red-head fly back to the locker rooms together. The fact that Draco Malfoy was now one of their closest friends would never cease to amaze him.

In fact, the past year would live forever in his memory as both the best and worst time of his life. He shuddered, remembering how he believed Snape really _had_ killed Dumbledore at the end of 6th year. The hate he felt towards the Potions teacher was incredible—he didn't even hate _Voldemort_ that much. But that was before he returned to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place after his 17th birthday. There, in the living room, sat a very healthy looking Albus Dumbledore, having tea with Narcissa Malfoy, Draco, and Professor Snape. Harry would have sworn his jaw hit the floor.

It was the beginning of the end—Voldemort's end. Dumbledore's death had been an intricate plot created by Snape and Narcissa themselves. With her husband in Azkaban, her only goal in live was the safety of her son and she knew that the Dark Side was the last place she would be able to find that.

_**Flashback**_

"_Please, sit with us a moment, Harry." Albus requested._

_Harry just stood by the door, wanting to pinch himself to see if this was true, only, he couldn't move. Dumbledore? Alive? He didn't know whether to shout for joy, scream in anger or cry in relief._

"_Harry?" the Boy-Who-Lived felt a warm pressure on his shoulder—Lupin. "Come on, Harry." But he refused to budge._

"_What's going on here?" he demanded, a slight waver in his otherwise steady voice._

_Seeing as how the stubborn Gryffindor would most likely demand an explanation before he took a step, Dumbledore began to relay events that led up to that moment. First Narcissa's decision, then the trip to Snape's with Bellatrix Lestrange in order to fool the Dark Lord's most obsessive servant into thinking the Dark Side had their never-ending loyalty; how so many Death Eaters that had once been Hogwarts students were beginning to lose faith in their Lord—**they** were the ones who really killed the other Death Eaters the day of Dumbledore's "death"._

"_We've got something on him now, Harry—Voldemort believes Snape, Narcissa, Draco and I are dead! Think of what that could mean for the Order!" the Headmaster urged._

"_How do we know they won't go running back to him? How do we know we can trust them?" Harry demanded to know._

_Without a word, Narcissa set a briefcase in her lap. Opening it, she extracted a small jewelry box. Lifting the top, she handed it to Harry, who accepted it. Inside was a charm—a silver snake with blood-red eyes and specks of emerald green adorning the body._

"_Do you know what this is, Potter?" Narcissa asked in a gentle tone, unlike the grating noise he thought he was sure to hear. Harry shook his head._

"_This belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself. He had it made for a certain woman he planned to make his bride."_

_Harry's green eyes widened in shock. "His **bride**!"_

"_Duh, you oaf—you don't think his line magically continued itself out of thin air, do you?" Draco rolled his eyes. A familiar flair of loathing spread though Harry's chest and he shot his school-enemy a glare._

"_Shh, Draco," his mother scolded softly before continuing the tale. "When Hogwarts was but an idea in the minds of two witches and two wizards, the four founders were best friends. Yes, Potter—even Gryffindor and Slytherin. In fact, the two were almost inseparable: Slytherin the Pure-Blood and Gryffindor the Half-Blood."_

"_Gryffindor was a half-blood!" Harry shot out, and Narcissa nodded._

"_Indeed. One day, the two were out walking—planning for their new school, no doubt—and they came across a maiden sleeping in the woods. She was beautiful—long flowing, dark hair, pale skin, and lips as red as blood. Salazar fell in love immediately._

"_He courted her, much to Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and especially Gryffindor's amusement. They had never seen their usually reserved friend so…alive. It was because of this that Slytherin made his final decision to go ahead and create the school—Hogwarts. He wanted to marry his beloved in the Great Hall of this new school._

"_She was perfect in his eyes: her soft, thick hair that smelled of the forest; her striking blue eyes; the silky skin he loved to run his hands over; her soft lips; the tinkle of her laughter; everything. But she was a Muggle, and didn't know of his magical background. He, of course, didn't care—he loved her and she loved him. He believed with his heart and soul that she wouldn't care if he were a wizard. It would be their downfall._

"_Salazar Slytherin always had a flair for the dramatic, and his proposal was no exception. He met her deep in the forest weeks before the school was to be established, on Midsummer's eve—the most magical night of the year. Instead of presenting her with a ring, he pulled out this charm, suggesting she wear it around her neck. The chain was long enough so the charm could rest in the valley of her breasts—right next to her heart. She of course, accepted. Slytherin was a fine young man, handsome and wealthy, with a kind heart to match. But, before he celebrated, he confessed to her his deepest secret: the truth of his ancestry._

"_She claimed to love him still, and they parted for the night. When he went to meet her the next day, she was nowhere to be found. He looked everywhere, even daring to step foot in her village, taking the utmost care not to be seen. But he was._

"_The villagers, overprotective of the young beauty, had been constantly asking where she went off to all the time. Most had been content with her answer—'I love the woods, they're magical'—and had written it off as the romantic mind of a young woman, but one in particular grew curious—her suitor, Hansel._

"_Hansel prided himself on his good looks and the fact that no other man in the village could claim Raina above him. So, when she began showing disinterest in his advances, he became determined to find out why. One night, he followed her deep into the forest and hid amongst the bushes. True to his assumptions, he saw Raina meet a man in the nearby clearing. The familiar way they addressed each other was proof this wasn't their first meeting. He grew angry upon hearing this stranger ask for Raina's hand—and even angrier at her acceptance. Then, the man confessed something that Hansel had never expected—he was a wizard._

"_Unable to stay any longer, he crept off, malice dancing in his veins. If he couldn't have Raina, no one could—especially not a **wizard**._

"_When Raina came back to the village, she was immediately taken by two large men and tied up. They brought her to the church, where Hansel accused her of dealing with the devil. He relayed what he had witnessed to the entire town, ending his tale with a grope at her neck. He held up the necklace for everyone to see. 'A **serpent**!" he cried out, 'The devil's creature!' They threw it into the fire as she pleaded for them to return it. As soon as it touched the flame, the fire turned a brilliant green, adding to the people's belief that it was the work of the devil._

"_Hansel, fueled by anger, took up a torch full of the green fire and used it to light the dry wood that surrounded Raina—they had sentenced her to death by burning—but the flames didn't touch her. By the time the fire faded, Raina and the necklace were still in tact, which only angered Hansel more. Raina, begging for mercy, was ignored as Hansel took his hunting knife and slit her throat with one easy swipe of his hand, the other hand clutching the serpent charm._

"_Legend says that the eyes of this serpent were originally green—to match Salazar's—but the second Raina's blood fell on them, they stained red. Hansel tried to scrub it off, but it never worked. Why he cared, no one will know. Maybe it was a harsh reminder of why he felt so guilty…or maybe fear because he knew: even if no one else remembered the true color, the wizard would. Hansel could overpower a young maid—but a wizard?_

"_Whatever it was, it drove him mad. His insanity set in so quickly—mere hours—that it is said the charm pushed him to his limit. So, when he caught a glimpse of Salazar the next afternoon, all hell broke loose._

"_Being the great wizard he was, Salazar was able to stop the crazed lunatic and the rest of the villagers carrying knives and pitchforks with a wave of his wand. Getting them to relay the previous night's event was just as easy—but a million times more difficult to cope with. He was appalled that the villagers did nothing but stand there and watch the murder of an innocent and beautiful being. What's more, they seemed to hold no remorse for their actions—especially Hansel._

"_This was the day the three Unforgivable Curses were created. First, he put all the villagers under the Imperius Curse, forcing them to beat Hansel until he was a breath away from death—among other gruesome tasks. Then, the Cruciatus Curse, letting all the villagers feel what his beloved must have felt—and then some. On all the villagers, save one, he used the Avada Kedavra Curse—they all dropped dead at his feet. Hansel, however, remained._

"_There was no spell fitting for Hansel, so Salazar cursed him to live in pain for the rest of his days. But, that wasn't the worst part. Slytherin was so filled with rage that he believed death wasn't enough for Hansel, so he took away his soul, saying he'd find peace only when his soul was returned to him by a member of Slytherin's own house._

"_Taking the charm from Hansel, he disappeared, leaving Hansel alone to wander the forest on the outskirts of the village. Slytherin went back to the castle, exhausted. He would never be the same. From that day on, he lost all respect, faith, belief, **love** in the non-magic community. Muggles were synonymous to sin. He moved his dormitory in the school to the dungeons and kept to himself. When he did come up to discuss business with Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, he always said the same thing: 'No muggle-borns". Gryffindor, of course, was furious—he was a half-blood, after all. But Slytherin wouldn't budge. 'No Muggles—they're dirty…dirty bloods…Mudbloods'. It became his mantra… 'Mudbloods'. Finally, they couldn't take it anymore, and demanded he leave. So, he left—but not before creating the Chamber of Secrets, as you discovered your 2nd year. The rest, you could say, is history."_

_Harry could hardly believe his ears. From the look on Lupin and Draco's faces, this was the first time they had heard the full tale—even Snape and Dumbledore looked impressed. It was a while before anyone could speak._

"_Hang on," Harry frowned, remembering the reason the story was told in the first place. What's this got to do with Voldemort?"_

"_It belonged to Slytherin—the very symbol of his hatred for Muggles and Muggle-borns. Naturally, its history intrigued the Dark Lord very much. Remember our conversation earlier this year, Harry? About Tom Riddle's fixation with Hogwarts? With the Founders? What you see before you is a Horcrux, Harry." Albus answered, eyes twinkling._

_It was that moment Harry knew—they could win this war._

_**End flashback**_

"Harry?" Ginny's soft voice called, bringing him back to the present. His eyes met hers, the worried expression on her face making him feel guilty.

"Sorry," he apologized, squeezing her hand "I went back in time, I guess."

She laughed—a sound he knew he'd never tire of hearing. "C'mon—they'll be waiting for us."

He pulled her in for one more kiss before they flew back together, still holding hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

…

**Chapter 2: Sleepover**

"It's the 7th of October, right?" Draco asked as they walked to the Great Hall for dinner. He and Ron had decided to stay in front of Ginny and Harry who were still holding hands, shooting what Ron referred to as "googly eyes" at one another.

"Wow, Malfoy—you know what today is!" replied Ron, his voice full of good-mannered sarcasm.

"Yeah, I do—it's the day Hermione comes back, isn't it?" It took all of Draco's self control to hide the smirk fighting to spread across his face. He continued walking, knowing Ron, Harry and Ginny had stopped at his words. After a couple steps, he turned around, eyebrow quirked. "Something wrong?"

Ron could hardly believe it—how could he have forgotten Hermione would be back today! And worse: Malfoy remembered! He mentally slapped his palm to his forehead. '_Well, at least I'm not the only one'_ he thought to himself, seeing the looks of surprise on Harry and Ginny's faces. Yep—Malfoy would never let them forget it; he, the ferret boy, had remembered Hermione before they did. Would wonders never cease?

"Let's hurry! Maybe she's in the Great Hall!" Ginny broke the silence, finally pulling her hand free from Harry's gentle grasp and beginning to run to the Great Hall.

"Oi! Stop running in the halls or I'll dock points!" Malfoy called out, but she kept on going. She was used to his empty threats of taking house points and assigning detentions—it was just his way of reminding everyone that _he_ was Head Boy.

Seeing his threat proved ineffectual, he glanced at Harry and Ron who shrugged and followed Ginny's lead, jogging lightly towards the Great Hall. Instead of running after them, he sighed, walking almost nonchalantly in their direction. When he finally got to the Great Hall, he was surprised to see McGonagall at the front of the room trying to get everyone's attention.

"Everybody! Please! Settle down!"

Grey eyes scanned the Gryffindor table, meeting emerald green and icy blue. Harry and Ron once again could do nothing but shrug as they sat down. Slowly, Draco walked over to his own house's table, taking his usual seat between Crabbe and Goyle. Scanning the Gryffindor's table once more, he was able to confirm: Hermione wasn't there.

Once the hall was quiet, the Professor continued. "Due to…unforeseen circumstances, I must ask you all to retire to your houses tonight. Dinner will be served there. And please—no wandering the halls tonight."

Murmurs spread throughout the huge room as the children stood up to follow orders. Out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy saw Harry, Ron and Ginny get up and walk towards the teachers' table. Draco hurried to catch up to the three Gryffindors.

"Professor, where's Hermione? She was supposed to come back today, wasn't she?" Harry asked, getting right to the point.

"Yeah, might this have anything to do with her?" Ron added. McGonagall's second of hesitation told Draco what he needed to know: it had everything to do with Hermione.

"It's alright, Minerva." Dumbledore assured, joining them. "Mr. Malfoy, kindly escort Mr. Potter and Mr. and Miss Weasley to the Head's Common Room. We will continue this there."

With a curt nod, Draco turned around, Harry, Ron and Ginny right behind. Tension seemed to grow with every step.

"Why do we need to go to the Head's Dorm? Wouldn't she be in the Gryffindor dorm? What's all this security about!" Ron asked frantically.

"Shut up, Weasley" Draco commanded firmly. For once, Ron complied, knowing Draco was just as worried as any of them. Well maybe not _him_ of course.

Harry's arms were covered in goose flesh, chills running up his spine towards his fingers as he quickened his pace to keep up with their Slytherin companion. He hadn't even realized Ginny had once again entwined her hand in his until he felt her squeeze it in response to his speeding up. He allowed himself to take comfort in the small gesture, glad that he had come to his senses and asked her to be his girlfriend once again. They were in this fight together—all of them.

It wasn't long before the four stopped in front of a painting of the Hogwarts crest. Draco spoke the password and the portrait swung open slowly. It felt like the longest two seconds of Ron's life. In a matter of two seconds, millions of thoughts and ideas flew through his head; _'Is she in there?', 'Is she alright?', 'What happened?', 'Where did she go?', 'Does this have to do with You-Know-Who?', 'Has our dinner arrived? Or will we have to the Gryffindor Common Room to get it?', 'Why is it taking so long for this bloody portrait to open?', 'Where's Hermione?'._ They all had formed an image in their mind of what scene would greet them: Hermione covered in blood that was mostly someone else's; Hermione covered in blood that was mostly her own; Hermione so full of bruises and cuts she didn't even look like Hermione anymore; Hermione on her death bed. Their imaginations were running wild, making their hearts beat faster. They were unprepared for the reality they met one those two seconds passed and the portrait was fully open.

The fire in the Head's Common Room was blazing, making the room nice and toasty compared to the cold hall they stood in. Draco walked in first, the only sign of his consternation his furrowed brow. Harry, Ron and Ginny followed, their expressions mirroring the Malfoy's.

It was empty. Well, save for a roaring fire that is. To Harry, this almost seemed worse than finding a bloody Hermione. After all, any Hermione was better than no Hermione.

"Maybe she's in her room," Ginny suggested quietly as the quartet made their way into the common room.

"I highly doubt that, Miss Weasley, though you're welcome to take a peek. It would put all our minds at ease if your assumptions are correct." Dumbledore's voice came from behind them.

"Where is she then, Professor?" Harry asked, worry spreading like fire throughout his body. Dumbledore _always_ knew what was going on…hearing the Headmaster confess unease at Hermione's absence unsettled him. Something was wrong…

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you—not because I wish to withhold information from you Mr. Potter," the Headmaster added, seeing a look of indignation cross the young boy's face, "but because I simply do not know."

"There never was any vacation, was there?" Draco asked, his voice eerily calm.

A chill ran down Ginny's spine and she gripped Harry's hand tighter. She had her suspicions when her owls returned with unanswered letters during the summer, but Ginny put it off as a result of Hermione enjoying herself too much to find time to respond. She should have known better. Hermione always wrote back.

"No, I'm sorry, there was no vacation." Albus answered.

"Then what…where…" Ron stuttered, unable to speak. He didn't know what to say. How could Hermione be missing?

"I assure you, we are doing everything we can to ensure Miss Granger's safe return. In the meantime, I suggest you all get some rest—it has been a trying evening." With that, the Headmaster left, leaving too many questioned unanswered.

"But how? I thought now that V…Voldemort was gone, it was all over." Ginny questioned, her voice small as they walked towards the couches by the fireplace. Harry couldn't help but agree. Voldemort's defeat and the demise of the Death Eaters were supposed to be the end…whatever happened to '_happily ever after_'? Sitting on the couch, he pulled Ginny to his chest, offering comfort as she struggled to fight tears. He looked over at Draco, who sat silently in the red loveseat across from him. The blonde's brow was furrowed in deep thought once again; the only indication of emotion was the slight frown on his face. Turning to look at Ron, Harry felt his heart clench even more; he knew how Ron felt about Hermione…they all did—except for Ron and Hermione, of course. Harry's throat constricted at the thought of how he would feel if it were Ginny in Hermione's place and his arms tightened around her.

"It's late," Draco announced, what seemed like years later. The fire that had welcomed them when they first stepped inside was now reduced to a few smoldering bits of wood—the only sign of the passing of time. "Prefects or not, you aren't to be out this late. You were meant to be in your dormitories long ago," he reminded them, his sense of duty as Head Boy kicking in.

"Could we stay, Draco? Please? What if she comes back...I want to be here when she comes back…" The hard look in the young Malfoy's eyes softened slightly at Ginny's quiet words, heavy with emotion. Once again, he was reminded of what it meant to love a friend, and while didn't have much experience in that particular field, he knew enough to respect it when he saw it. Head Boy duties be damned…

"Alright," he agreed, "Do you and Potter want to take my room? Or hers…Weasley, you're welcome to whichever room they don't take…"

Draco's tired voice drew Ron back to reality, his mind blissfully numb beforehand. The Malfoy's apparent concern shocked him, allowing him to focus on something other than his distress. That is, until he remembered why Malfoy was concerned in the first place. A bubble rose within the Weasley's throat and all he could do was nod at Draco's words. He hadn't even heard what he said.

"I doubt Hermione would appreciate coming back to find us in her bed," Harry replied, attempting half-heartedly to lighten the mood. "We'll all sleep here in the common room, if that's all right with you. That way, we'll be right here when she gets back."

The meaning behind Harry's response was not lost on Draco. '_He's right,_' the Slytherin thought to himself as he nodded. '_She will be back_'.

"Right. Well—I'll go get some blankets and whatnot. Care to help, Weasley?"

Ron's eyes shot up to meet his former enemy's, surprised at the offer, which he _had_ heard.

"Yeah, alright," he agreed, following Draco up a set of stairs to what he saw was a linen closet. '_A linen closet? Damn Heads…_'

"Hey listen," Draco began in a whisper, not entirely sure what he was saying, but letting his mouth run anyway. "I know you're worried…but if Dumbledore can convince a Malfoy to join the Light side, then the old coot can do anything. After fighting the Dark Lord, finding Granger'll be a piece of Pumpkin Pasty, all right?" Inwardly, Draco winced. Where the hell did that come from? _He_ certainly didn't know. His words had sounded cheesy and cliché—and they had been directed to Weasley, of all people! Yet somehow, Draco knew the red-head had needed those words…had needed to hear them from someone other than the Boy Wonder and the Headmaster…had needed to hear them from someone who didn't make it a habit to comfort anyone on a day to day basis. He needed to hear Hermione would be ok. Draco knew, after all, how the Weasel felt about their friendly, neighborhood bookworm. In fact, they _all_ did—except Ron and Hermione, of course.

Ron let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, visibly relaxing as Malfoy placed one last blanket in his arms.

"Thanks," he nodded, unable to think of anything else to say. The fact that Malfoy has just offered him words of comfort was something he couldn't quite wrap his head around. It was Malfoy! Then again, said by any other person—especially Harry or Dumbledore—and the words would have been meaningless. Maybe the Ferret wasn't so bad after all.

Draco nodded once, then the two made their way downstairs, an awkward yet comfortable silence between them.

"_Four_ blankets?" Harry questioned when the two arrived, distributing why they collected. He had seen Malfoy say something to Ron upstairs, and would have brought it up but it seemed to have calmed his fiery friend, so decided against it. Besides, if Malfoy thought it was best to pull Ron aside for whatever it was he had to say, then he would keep it between them.

"You didn't expect me to sit out while you three had a sleepover in _my_ common room, did you?" Draco answered, raising an eyebrow, which Harry knew to mean, '_I'm worried too…'_ "Now," Draco continued, pulling out his wand to dim the lights. "All of you—Dumbledore said to get some rest, and damn it, we're getting rest. She'll be back by morning" he confidently assured before resting his head on his pillow. They offered each other 'good-night's and silence filled the room. It was a long while before anyone fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

…

**Chapter 3: Surprise**

Draco was wrong—Hermione still had yet to grace them with her presence by the middle of the next day and tension seeped from Harry, Ron, Ginny and Draco, infecting all of Hogwarts. While her absence had gone almost unnoticed before, it seemed to be in the forefront of everyone's minds now—especially after the previous night's excitement.

"Hermione back yet, Harry?" Parvati questioned, knowing better than to ask Ron. If something really was the matter with their Gryffindor bookworm, Ron just might do something drastic. She knew, after all, how he felt about Hermione. Everyone knew, in fact—except Ron and Hermione, of course. "I'm having a bit of trouble with Snape's essay…I was hoping she'd help me out some."

"No, sorry—still on vacation," Harry lied, the hole in his stomach growing from the added guilt the falsehood brought. Parvati shrugged, and turned away, leaving Harry grateful for the fact that, just this once, she didn't feel the need to get all the juicy details. Finishing off his pumpkin juice, Harry turned to Ron, who had said barely two words since yesterday. "Hey—Parvati just reminded me of Snape's essay. I might as well do something while we wait—do you want to come along?"

"No use sitting here doing nothing, I suppose," Ron shrugged, following his friend to the library.

The rest of the week passed on as such. At night, the four teens slept fitfully in the Head's Common Room. When morning came, they each opened their eyes expectantly, only to have their hopes dashed; she wasn't back. Throughout the day they could barely pay attention in class, trying to do homework, but to no avail. Homework was _Hermione's_ forte, not theirs. By Saturday, Draco wanted her back simply because he was sick of having to share his Common Room—friends or not.

Thankfully, Saturday night meant Patrol night for the Gryffindor Prefects—Ron and Ginny. Harry decided to tag along so he could spend more time with Ginny and, Draco suspected, to make sure the Weasley male didn't go run off the North Tower. Sighing, Draco sat back in the loveseat by the fire, running a hand though his blonde hair. What a week it had been. Looking back, he realized only four days had passed since that first night—a Tuesday. '_Only four days? Merlin…_' he thought to himself. It felt like so much longer than that. The Slytherin was so lost in his own mind he didn't hear the creek of the Portrait opening.

'_Where the hell are you, Granger?_' he wondered, staring into the fire as though it would provide all the answers they needed.

"Draco…"

'_Gods, I've become the Weasel…so obsessed by this I can actually hear her voice…_'

"Draco…"

'_I need sleep…or a firewhiskey…_'

"Draco!"

Startled, Draco turned around, his heart beating fast. Rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't fooling himself, he breathed in slowly, resisting the urge to pinch his arm.

"Granger!"

Hermione's eyes widened as the usually-composed Draco Malfoy, her one time enemy and rival, rushed at her, enclosing her in a firm embrace. If someone had told her just last year that _Malfoy_ would be hugging her after a long absence, she'd have recommended they visit St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. Now, she felt oddly comforted by the simple action. After the past _how_ many weeks, a hug was exactly what she needed.

"Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried everyone is!" he exclaimed, pulling away. Keeping his hands on her small shoulders, he held her at arms' length, studying her. She looked exhausted, to say the least. Her tamed locks had found their wild side once more, now frizzier than they were in First year. Her skin had lost its color and there were bags under tired eyes. "You look like hell."

"Thanks, Malfoy—it's good to see you too," she sarcastically remarked with a laugh, rolling her eyes as she stepped away from him to move closer to the warmth of the fire. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

"Out patrolling with Weaselette. Dumbledore told us you weren't on vacation. What happened?"

"Dumbledore told you?" she echoed skeptically, remembering the Headmaster's words before she had left. '_Under no circumstances are you to reveal what we have discussed—that includes Harry and Ron—until I give word, Miss Granger. This is of the utmost importance._'

"Well, I guessed, and he confirmed," Draco answered. "All he said was that there was no vacation." Hermione nodded. She had figured that, if anyone could piece together what happened, it would have been Harry or Draco. The two were more alike than either would admit.

"I need to see the Headmaster," she announced, not answering his question. "I'll tell you all about it when I get back. Oh, and Malfoy?" she paused, looking him in the eye. "Let's keep my return between us for now?"

A smirk spread slowly over Draco Malfoy's face as he nodded in agreement. A chance to put one over on Potter and Weasley? This was too good to pass up.

"So, how was your day, boys?" Ginny asked, growing tired of the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps. Any more quiet and she was likely to go insane—a girl could only take so much.

"Fine," they answered simultaneously, and Ginny rolled her eyes. The whole night had been filled with one-word answers. She'd had enough of those two.

"Listen to you!" she cried out, stepping away from Harry so she could face the both of them. "The way you're going on, acting as though she died! She hasn't! She's fine and she's coming back!" she finished, hands balled at her sides. The young Weasley female had poured all the week's frustrations and emotions into her admonition, and her face was red because of it. Angry tears threatened to spill from narrowed eyes. How could they act like this?

Harry's eyes met Ron's in the briefest of glances before he stepped up to gather Ron's sister in his arms.

"You're right. I'm sorry. She'll be back," Harry agreed, willing himself to believe it.

"Yeah—sorry, Gin," Ron apologized, scratching his head. "I guess we got carried away."

"You did." Ginny nodded, her voice still thick with emotion. "You're such a bunch of pansies."

The unexpected comment and the way it was delivered surprised Harry and Ron who each let out a bark of laughter. They hadn't laughed in four days. It felt good.

"Come on—let's get back to the Head's Common Room," Ron suggested, a smile on his face. "I doubt anyone's out at this hour."

His two friends agreed, and they made their way back, the silence between them no longer heavy with sorrow. They weren't surprised when the only one reading beside the firelight was a bored looking Draco Malfoy.

Hermione closed the door to the Room of Requirements, pleading with it to hide its precious contents well. She still wasn't sure what would happen if what she hid was found, but she knew it would be bad. At least, that's what Dumbledore had said. After checking to make sure no one had seen her, she began to walk back to her Common Room, planning exactly what she would say to her friends. The Headmaster had given her permission to tell all she knew to the four people behind those walls, and for that she was thankful; this was too much even for her. Besides—she was going to need help… a lot of it.

Draco wasn't sure as to the exact events that occurred during the Patrol, but the three Gryffindors seemed much better for it. He smirked, thinking of a certain event that happened while they were away. '_This is gonna be good…_'

After watching her brother kick Harry's arse in another game of chess, Ginny Weasley had had enough.

"I'm going to bed," she yawned, arranging her blankets.

"Oh, but you're the life of the party, Weasley," Draco drawled from his spot on the loveseat.

"Malfoy, I'm tired—it's been a long week and Ron and Harry make Wizards Chess the most boring game in the world," Ginny replied, eliciting protests from Ron and Harry.

"As much as I would love the peace and quiet that would come from you lot turning in for the night, I believe it's in your best interests to stay awake for a minute or two longer. Play another round of chess or something," he suggested, leaving no room for arguments in his tone.

Harry and Ron eyed the blonde before shrugging off his words as another attempt to get under their skin. They began to set up the chessboard, taking his advice. Neither was really tired anyway. Ginny sighed, settling herself next to Malfoy on the arm of his seat.

"I bet you a Chocolate Frog Ron wins—sorry, Harry…" she smiled sheepishly at Harry's "Hey!"

"Fine—I'll even do you one better. I'll wager a bottle of butterbeer that they don't even finish the match," Draco smirked, knowing she'd accept. She held out her hand and they shook on it, Ginny confused as to why he'd added on that last bit.

"I feel the support guys, I really do," Harry joked, his bishop taking one of Ron's pawns. The group hadn't even finished laughing before Ron sent his rook to take Harry's bishop. "Damn," he laughed again.

"Face it, Potter—killing the Dark Lord and his cronies does nothing to improve your chess game," Draco shook his head, chuckling. It surprised him, how good it felt to laugh with these people when mere months ago they loathed each other. '_Things sure do change…_'

The match continued, Potter losing more by the minute, but Draco kept his eye on the portrait. When it began to swing open silently, his eyes widened for a split second before the infamous Malfoy smirk settled on his face. This would be interesting.

Hermione stepped into the Common Room, smiling at the sound of her friends' laughter. Seeing them hunched over a chessboard only served to make her smile widen. '_Harry must be losing again,_' she thought. Ever-so quietly, she began to inch closer to them, wanting to surprise them. Dumbledore had spoken of the past four days' impact on them, and she felt a little guilty. '_But it had to be done…_'

The sound of a coat hanger clattering to the floor and a soft, "Oh!" was followed by dead silence. '_So much for sneaky-ness,_' Hermione chastised, quickly righting herself and the offending coat hanger. '_I thought I told Draco to move that away from the portrait!_'

Meanwhile, three pairs of eyes—two blue and one green—were wide in surprise. Time seemed to have frozen for Ginny, Ron and Harry. The chess game sat on the table, now forgotten. They couldn't have moved if they tried.

"Hey there, Granger—long time no see," Malfoy spoke casually, breaking the silence. He offered her a nod which she returned with a smile. How different this greeting was, compared to the last one he gave her.

"Hi guys. Did I interrupt anything?" At the sound of Hermione's voice, Ginny reached over, her hand looking for Ron's arm.

"OUCH! What the bloody hell was that for!" he exclaimed loudly, rubbing the sore spot where his sister had pinched him. His reaction seemed to break the spell that kept them immobilized for so long. Not wasting another second, Ginny leapt up off the arm of the loveseat, rushing to hug Hermione.

As she had with Draco's outpouring of affection, Hermione gratefully returned the young Weasley's gesture, thankful for the anchor it provided. The last weeks had been terrible…especially since she had to weather it alone. '_Well, not entirely alone…_' Upon seeing Ginny's eyes shining with unshed tears when the two girls pulled away from each other, Hermione's began to water just as violently—Merlin, she had missed her friends.

Out of nowhere, she was tackled by two pairs of strong arms.

"Ron! Harry! I can't breathe!" she laughed, relishing the feeling as they squeezed her tighter. Harry let go first, and Harry, Ginny and Draco didn't miss the fact that Ron and Hermione held on to one another a few moments longer than proper for 'just friends'. When they did pull away, Ron's face was decorated with his lopsided grin while Hermione's cheeks were rather red.

"Oh! I missed you all so much!" the Gryffindor bookworm gushed, as they all sat down in front of the fire.

"Even Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed and everyone laughed at Malfoy's protest of, "Hey! Watch it, Weasel…"

"Yes, even Draco." Hermione rolled her eyes at the Slytherin's satisfied smirk. "But don't take it to heart _too_ much, Malfoy," she joked.

"Oh, don't worry—I'll leave that to Weasel-bee here," Draco replied, quickly changing the subject before either Ron or Hermione caught on and got uncomfortable. "So, now that we're all here, let's hear of your exciting adventures."

Hermione drew in a shaky breath, trying to sort out exactly what had happened.

"I'm not sure where I should begin…" She bit her lip, sinking into the cushion of the couch she sat on. Draco sat across from her, Ron and Ginny; Harry accommodated himself on the floor beside her and Ginny's feet. As if sensing her hesitation, Ron slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders and Ginny placed a warm hand over Hermione's suddenly cold ones.

"How about at the beginning?" Draco suggested. He knew it was unbelievably cliché, but if it helped her get the ball rolling…

"Well, it all started when Dumbledore decided to get rid of Salazar's locket and he asked for my help…"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I feel like I've been reborn or something lol. I know it's been forever since I've updated anything, but you know how it goes—school & life tends to get in the way. However, I'm happy to report that I have this week off and for the next few days, all I want to do is continue this story, as well as my other one, Be My Escape. In addition, I've got a sequel to Be My Escape in the works (titled, Who I Am Hates Who I've Been, which is another Relient K song…). In other words…I'm busy lol. I'd say 'expect more updates soon', but who knows what's going to happen, right? Anyway, without further ado…Chapter 4 :)

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. **

* * *

"Get rid of the locket? Why? It's no harm to us anymore, right?" Draco pondered aloud, earning a glare from Harry and the two Weasleys for his interruption. 

"Well, it's no longer a Horcrux, but I was reading some old Hogwarts documents—sorting for Dumbledore—and I came upon Slytherin's old journal…" Four pairs of eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, I know—I should have told you…but Dumbledore made me promise not to say a word. Anyway, in it, there was some poem of sorts that talked about how his most important possession…or a 'sparkling jewel'—some vague reference that Dumbledore translated as jewelry—was the key to 'true death'…I think…"

"You _think_? How is it you can't remember? Aren't you the girl who memorized our complete list of text books since first year…and then some?" Draco teased.

"It was spelled, wasn't it?" Harry answered for her, remembering his second year and his dealings with Tom Riddle's diary. "Only the right person will be able to remember that perfectly—I'll bet Dumbledore wouldn't be able to recite it if he wanted to. It must be a Slytherin-bloodline thing. I was never able to remember exactly what was in the diary second year…or, what was written in it, rather…"

"Nor can I," Ginny agreed, leaning into Harry who held her closer. The room was silent as the teens remembered how close both Ginny and Harry had been to death that day…

" 'The key to true death', you said, Granger?" the blonde Slytherin voiced quietly after a minute, bringing the group back on track.

"Oh, yes," Hermione began again, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. "Well, Dumbledore thought it best to get it far from here, and since I'm the one who discovered the rhyme, he sent me to put it in the hands of a wizard friend of his in America."

"You went to America? Without telling us!" Ron blurted, going slightly red when he realized he had interrupted.

"I had to, Ron—and I couldn't tell, remember? Anyway, I got to the wizard just fine. His name was Jeremy Walker, connoisseur of historical jewelry." Draco's interest piqued at Hermione's use of past tense, but he kept quiet, eyes flickering over the other occupants of the room to see if anyone else noticed. They handn't.

"He was a truly wonderful person. Not only was he incredibly intelligent, but he had a kind heart; he had adopted a baby girl about 17 years ago when her parents died in a car crash and she's just as wonderful as he is…a Muggle though—not that there's anything wrong with that, of course…" she added quickly. Taking a breath, she continued.

"I wanted to come back right away, but Mr. Walker insisted I stay. Dumbledore had, after all, given me amole time to complete the mission, and Ria loved having someone around to talk to—she was being home schooled and Mr. Walker could be over protective, so she didn't get out much. Obviously, I ended up staying…though I would have been much more willing if I'd've been allowed to use magic. As honest and open as Jeremy Walker was, he never told Ria he was a wizard, so I was told to refrain from divulging that secret. Living without magic for a small stretch of time didn't bother me _too_ much though…I mean, I lived without it up until I was 11, you know?

"Anyway, I was having the time of my life, hanging out with Ria. Mr. Walker let her out of the house more, so we frequented the cinema, the shopping mall and the beach—they lived in California! It really felt like a vacation…until I saw someone I recognized.

"I couldn't place his face, but it unsettled me. I didn't tell Mr. Walker or Ria about it because I didn't think it was important. About a week ago, I found out who it was…I also found out what happened to those three Death Eaters we thought escaped."

A sharp intake of breath filled the silence following Hermione's last remark. Ginny went pale—Death Eaters?

"Ria and I were talking in her room late last Tuesday night when the lights went dead. We figured it was no big deal, but then Mr. Walker came into her room, carrying a rink and the necklace I had brought; his wand was out—he told me it would be best if I took mine out too. Ria was so confused…

"As calm as he was trying to be, he was trembling—even in the dark, I could tell—and it frightened Ria and me. Ria kept asking questions—'what is that?', 'what's going on?', 'wand?'…but he ignored her questions and pressed the ring into her hand. 'This was your mother's' he said. 'I'm sorry I never told you, but you're smart and now you've got Hermione to help you—you must learn the truth, child!' She kept asking more questions after that, but he silenced her, and gave the necklace back to me, telling me that nothing was safe and I must leave immediately. Everything seemed so unreal…then we heard footsteps coming up the driveway."

Silent tears began to stream down Hermione's face as she remembered. The air was thick with suspense, everyone wanting to hear the rest of the story, but no one willing to force Hermione to continue. As if by silent agreement, everyone moved in as close as they could manage, seating themselves so close to one another that not even a whisper would escape anyone's ears. Harry and Ginny held each other close, while Ron wrapped a comforting arm around Hermione's shaking shoulders. Draco sat on the floor, pretense forgotten, with his knees in front of him, propped up by his hands. They waited for Hermione to continue.

"When we didn't answer the doorbell, they burst open the door. Mr. Walker put a silencing spell on us, to keep us from screaming, but they were already on their way upstairs. Ria was hysterical…he put a sleeping spell on her, then he shoved an invisibility cloak into my hands and told me not to Apparate us out of there, because they had been trained as Hunters—people who can trace Apparitions and Disapparitions, among other things. He would hold them off.

"I didn't want to leave him, but he insisted…we knew too much or something. They were so close…I did a quick placement spell, to get us to the bus station, which was only three miles from their house. Placement spells can't be traced, you know…" Again, her voice faded, and she had to breathe deeply before continuing.

"I got to the bus station, but it was no good—I couldn't order a ticket. The silencing spell Mr. Walker had placed on us was too powerful and I couldn't counter it. I sat in the waiting area, completely freaked out—what if they caught up with us there? Then I heard Ria ask what was happening. The sound of her voice scared me so much…instead of answering, I rushed to the ticket booth to buy us two tickets to London. If the silencing spell wore off, that could only mean one thing…and if I was right, then those Death Eaters had long since left the Walker's house…

"That's why it took so long to get here—I couldn't Apparate. That, and I was scared to death they were tracking us. Whenever I could, I back-tracked, taking a different route, only to go back and do it all over again. I wanted to talk to Ria about everything so much, but we had to keep our talking to a minimum, in case the walls had ears…"

"Wait a minute…did you just say, 'us'? 'Our'?" Draco asked after letting a respectful second pass. Unable to answer, Hermione simply nodded. "So that means…she's here? In Hogwarts?" Draco's eyes met Harry's, Ginny's and Ron's for a split second before all four eyes focused once more on Hermione, who took a shaky breath before responding.

"Jeremy Walker is dead. His daughter, Ria, is here at Hogwarts."

That said, Hermione Granger fell into a dead sleep on Ron's shoulder. No one wanted to move her, after hearing what she'd been through.

Ron settled into the couch as best as he could, trying to get comfortable and feeling absolutely guilty at the feeling of elation filling his stomach. Horror-struck as he was by Hermione's story, he couldn't help but want to smile. She was back. She was with him. Everything would be okay…

Leaving Harry to soothe a shaken Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy went to get the blankets, forgetting his past displeasure at the need to have his common room back to himself. After that story, the last thing he wanted was to sleep alone. With a nod, he placed one blanket over Ron and a slightly-snoring Hermione. Something stirred in his heart as he watched the Weasley brother gently wipe the tears from Hermione's face with the blanket, giving her a chaste kiss on the forehead before pulling the blanket over himself, and for a moment, Draco found himself wondering if he'd ever find…_that_. What Ron and Hermione would have, once Ron found the balls to tell Hermione how he felt. What Harry and Ginny had.

He gave his head a slight shake, thinking to himself how stupid those thoughts were. He was a Malfoy—he didn't need that crap. Instead, he allowed his mind to dwell on something more interesting…something that had troubled him: the look Hermione didn't know she sent him as she mentioned those Death Eaters. Fear…which was understandable, given the events she was retelling…but there was hesitance—apprehension even—and she had looked straight at him as she mentioned them.

'It was nothing…' Draco tried to convince himself long after everyone had fallen asleep. With a sigh, he closed his own eyes, feeling sleep begin to overtake him. 'Nothing at all…'

* * *

**A/N: **Creative wheels are turning lol. I'd just like to take the time to thank KimberlynnAstonia for her review—it helped, it really did!

& sorry if there are any spelling, etc. mistakes...I wrote it up last night & I typed it up really fast so I could get load it today...

Please, REVIEW! They inspire me, I swear! Lol.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

Hermione woke the next morning feeling just as exhausted as she did before she went to sleep. Memories of the past week flooded into her groggy mind, bringing forth new tears. Not wanting to give in to the sadness, she snuggled into the strong arms that held her, breathing in the familiar scent that reminded her of the country; the Weasleys' homemade soap and Mrs. Weasley's delicious cornbread. She closed her eyes as she leaned into is chest, allowing herself to indulge in this one moment. Who knew when it would ever come around again? Her small sniff woke Ron, whose arms tightened protectively around Hermione.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, whispering. The others were still asleep and looking at the large clock above the fireplace, Ron saw why—it had just turned 6:30 AM. He glanced again at the 3 sleeping forms on the floor, wrinkling his nose in distaste as his eyes began to focus, only to be greeted with the sight of his baby sister asleep in some guy's arms. The fact that the arms belonged to none other than his best friend offered little comfort. Why did they have to grow up so fast?

She nodded as he pulled the blanket up further to keep them warm. Just as she was about to close her eyes again, they shot open and she sat up quickly, startling a now confused Ron.

"Ria!" she exclaimed in a low voice, not wanting to wake the others. "I need to see if she's ok…get her food…you know…"

"Right…" agreed Ron, getting up as she did, and helping her put on a jacket. "D'you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's alright. She's…I don't want to shock her or anything…she's been through so much…"

"So have you," Ron replied in a voice just as soft as hers. Hermione gave him a small smile. "Go—and if you need anything, we'll be here."

With a nod, Hermione snuck out of the portrait hole, relieved that it was so early on a Sunday morning; almost everyone was still asleep. Once she was in the hall, she broke out into a run. The fact that someone might see her was the last thing on her mind.

…

The sound of the refrigerator closing filled the Common Room, rousing Ginny from her slumber. Carefully disentangling herself from Harry's arms so as not to wake him, she rose and walked over to where her brother sat in the Head's kitchen.

"You're up early," she whispered, taking note of the time.

"And since when do _you_ wake up at 7 in the morning?" he whispered back with a frown. She shrugged in return, unwilling to let his sour mood interfere with her own happy one. Hermione was back…shouldn't he be happier? Speaking of Herms…

"Where's Hermione?" she asked, looking around unnecessarily and hoping the new subject might lift her brother's spirits.

"She, uh, went to go check on…on…"

"Ria?" Ginny assisted, to Ron's relief.

"Yeah, Ria. She left maybe 15, 20 minutes ago."

"Can you believe what happened? I mean, everything she had to go through…in just a week!" Ginny exclaimed in an excited whisper, knowing this was one topic safe to touch upon as she tried to figure out what was wrong with her brother. She couldn't really relax until he was ok too.

"It's mad," he agreed with a nod, eyes unfocused, and Ginny knew he must be thinking of Hermione. "It was always Harry and me who got into that stuff…and even then Hermione was there, helping us," he began, surprising Ginny who hadn't expected him to keep going. "It just feels weird that we weren't there to help her."

"She needs help now. And you can make up for any guilt you feel by making sure she's not alone in this," Ginny replied, darting her eyes towards Harry and Draco to make sure they were still sleeping despite her raised voice.

"Yeah, I _know_." Ron's voice was still low, but his eyes flicked over to Harry, asleep on the floor.

"He makes me happy," Ginny whispered softly, her voice changing from excited hysteria to warm tenderness. The almost hard look in Ron's eyes faded as Ginny continued, accurately guessing what had disturbed Ron this morning. She should have known in the first place; Ron always got testy when she was with a boy. "He makes me forget I'm sad, or scared of what's going to happen…"

"Yeah, I know," her brother repeated, a similar tone now in his voice. He seemed to have relaxed somehow, and it gave Ginny courage to continue.

"Hermione needs you to be that for her."

His sister's voice was so low that it took Ron a second to register what she said. When it finally sunk in, his eyes widened in surprise. How did she….?

"I'm going down for breakfast," he stated flatly, getting up and grabbing his robes.

Ginny let him leave, not pointing out that breakfast wouldn't be served for another half hour or so, and that he'd had breakfast here, in the Head's Common Room already. She sighed, shivering from the draft that came in when Ron opened the portrait. As annoyed as he seemed, Ginny wasn't the least bit sorry for what she brought up.

'_He deserves to be happy,_' she thought, getting up to return to the warmth Harry offered. '_He deserves what Harry and I have…love…_'

Hermione sighed, sneaking out of the Room of Requirement after she made clear that one of her _requirements_ was that the room protect its contents by any means possible. If it were up to her, the Room of Requirement wouldn't' be necessary—the Head's Common Room would suffice—but with the current situation, that was impossible…for now anyway.

Deciding she'd think more on it later, Hermione decided to have break---lunch in the Great Hall. It was now close to noon; she had spent the entire first half of her day with Ria trying to explain to her the magnitude of what they went through. The Muggle had been shocked, it was true, and she was in deep grief over the loss of her father, but she didn't understand just how bad the circumstances were. She knew she'd need the others' help on this one…but even that seemed impossible. If she wanted their help, she'd have to admit she lied to them.

…

Draco sat amidst his fellow Slytherins as lunch progressed. Across the Hall, he could see the flaming red hair of the two Weasleys and between them, a messy head of jet black. Hermione's bushy brown locks were nowhere to be seen. He remembered the look the Bookworm had given him the night before and it still unsettled him. Something in her eyes…

He meant to ask her when he woke the next morning, but she—along with the Weasley male—had disappeared. From Ginny, he learned that Hermione went to go check on the Muggle and Ron went for Breakfast. He had a feeling Ginny was leaving something out, and Draco assumed it had something to do with what she had whispered to her brother that morning as he pretended to lay asleep. Not that he heard—her voice was too soft—but it must have been about Hermione; nothing else could have set him off like that.

"Hey Drake, you ok man?" his good friend Blaise Zabini asked from his seat across the table. "You seem really quiet."

"More quiet than usual?" Draco smirked, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," Draco admitted, pushing the last of his lunch around his plate uncharacteristically. "A lot on my mind, I guess."

At this, Blaise's eyebrow arched in silent question. The look in Draco's eyes relayed the message that he'd be told later. If Draco knew the Golden Gryffindors as well as he thought, they would have no problem letting Blaise in on the little secret; Blaise's mother had been killed at the hands of one of those escaped Death Eaters, though no one knew which one. He had also been a great asset to the Light side in the Final Battles, saving both Hermione and Ginny countless times, on top of helping Tonks, Lupin and the Weasley Twins when they found themselves in tight situations. In fact, he had grown close to the others as well, but somehow drifted once school started again. Maybe it was time to bring him back into the fold.

A happy murmur swept through the Great Hall. Draco looked up to see Hermione Granger walking towards the Gryffindor table wearing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She sat in the space Harry and Ron saved between them, bracing herself for the questions people were bound to ask her. Sure enough, Draco soon lost sight of her when she was surrounded, not only by curious Gryffindors, but Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws too.

When Hermione's situation lost its amusement, Draco began a small conversation with Blaise; Crabbe and Goyle offered their grunts of agreement every now and again—they had joined the Light only because Draco had and following Draco was all they knew. Draco wondered if they even knew the war was over.

From across the room, he felt someone watching him and a flick of his eyes told him it was Hermione; she must have finished the Q & A session then. His stomach gave an unwelcome lurch at the look in her eye—the same as last night—but he refused to be intimidated. His own eyes met hers in a questioning glance and she gave him a look similar to the one he gave Blaise earlier—one that clearly said, "I'll tell you later". His eyes inclined towards Blaise slightly and he saw Hermione nod before she returned to her conversation with Potter and Weasley. '_Yes, bring Blaise_' she seemed to say. Shifting in his seat, he turned to his fellow Slytherin.

"Hey Blaise, why don't you join us in the Common Room tonight?"

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**A/N: I wasn't going to end the chapter here, but it was getting a little lengthy. In addition, I typed it up pretty quick, without fully reading through it before I submitted it, so my apologies for any stupid mistakes you may have come across. I've already started Chapter 5 and I know what I want to accomplish in Chapter 6. When I'll get the chance to actually write it all out & type it up is another story lol.**

**Please, review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Chapter 6: Questions**

After being hit by a Bludger for the third time that night, Harry Potter decided it was time to end Quidditch practice. It was probably the least productive practice the Gryffindor team had ever known—and that included all those times with McLaggen the previous year. In the locker room, Harry apologized to everyone; he knew his lack of focus had affected the entire Gryffindor team. It didn't help that Ron, the Keeper, and Ginny, a Chaser, were equally unfocused.

"Let's try again Saturday, alright?" he tried suggesting brightly, which helped the team the tiniest bit; if their captain had hope for the next session, then maybe it wasn't so bad…

The mention of Saturday reminded Ron that it was, in fact, Wednesday, and while Hermione had found the time to bring Blaise into their little dilemma, no one had actually seen Ria. Not that Ron didn't like Blaise—it was quite the opposite. Blaise was one of the few Slytherins Ron could stand. He even went as far as to call Blaise a friend-he _had_, after all, saved his sister and Hermione more times than Ron could count during the battles they fought in. However, that still didn't change the fact that Hermione still kept her Muggle friend cleverly concealed—and she was suffering for it. Try as she might to insist she was okay, the dark circles under her eyes, constant yawns and paler-than-usual color of her skin told Ron otherwise. He wanted to help her so badly…but how? Sunday morning's conversation with Ginny suddenly filled his head and he groaned inwardly. This was not the time for that.

"Come on; let's head back to our Common Room. I've got loads of homework to do," Ginny sighed, as she locked her broom away. The thought of returning to the Gryffindor Common Room felt awkward, as it had all week, and Ginny blamed it on the time spent in the Heads' Common Room while they waited for Hermione to get back. It would take a couple more days to get used to the hustle and bustle of students wandering about…and the noise! The Heads' Common Room was wonderfully empty, save for four friends waiting anxiously for the fifth. The only thing to fill all that space was tense silence. Ginny had almost forgotten about the cheerful chaos that was the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, taking her hand and laughing as Ron rolled his eyes. The slight smile on his best friend's face told Harry that Ron didn't really mind his outward display of affection for Ginny. Together, they all walked back, an unsettling feeling in their stomachs that they chose not to voice.

**…**

Hermione walked out of Dumbledore's office, unable to stop trembling. She had to tell Ria. More importantly, she had to tell Ron, Blaise…Harry and Ginny…and Draco…

'_Oh, Merlin, help me…_'

**…**

Draco Malfoy exited the Slytherin Common Room, the traditional Malfoy smirk upon his pale face. It felt good to go back…sort of. After spending so much time with those goody-goody Gryffindors, he had forgotten just what being a Slytherin felt like. Of course, he preferred the company of those Gryffindors, but there was something almost cleansing about the dungeons. Or maybe that was just the effect of talking with Blaise.

Draco was pleased that Harry, Ginny, the Weasel and Hermione welcomed Blaise so warmly, and that Blaise was able to catch up so quickly—he even contributed a few ideas of his own. They still hadn't really gotten anywhere…and Hermione had yet to introduce everyone to the Muggle…Ria was it? Out of habit, his nose wrinkled with distaste as he remembered her lack of Wizarding blood.

That's what Draco and Blaise had discussed, for the most part: Hermione, the escaped Death Eaters, and Ria. The young Malfoy mentioned the odd looks Hogwarts' Bookworm had been giving him, making Blaise laugh.

"If she's been looking at you, you better not tell Weasley. I mean, you _know_ how he feels about her. I think everyone knows, actually—except Ron and Hermione…"

"Yeah," Draco chuckled, thinking of Ron and Hermione's relationship…or lack thereof.

"You think Lucius was involved, don't you?" Blaise stated quietly, low so no one but his friend would hear. The mirth in Draco's eyes vanished so quickly it might not even have been there at all. How the hell did Blaise know these things?

"Yeah," he repeated, finding it hard to speak. "I mean, they never found his body, did they?"

"Drake, Granger _herself_ hit him with an 'Avada Kedavra'…and I'm pretty sure Lucius hates Potter enough that he wouldn't want to follow in his footsteps, even if it meant life over death," Blaise assured with his own smirk appearing at his last comment.

"True," Draco laughed, a lightness beginning to take hold of him. "Granger _can_ be bloody scary…and Father did hate Potter…"

"There, see? I'm right, of course." Blaise's smirk grew. "Besides—if it bugs you so much, why not go and talk to her yourself?"

**…**

The Heads' Common Room was dark, save for the fire dancing in the fireplace. The contrast between the toasty inside and the cold of the Hogwarts halls told Hermione that the fire had been kept alive for quite some time.

"Hello, Draco," she called out, knowing he was there. The almost eerie setting had his name all over it.

"Granger," he greeted in that lazy drawl, not budging from his spot facing the fire, sitting in his favorite seat. Hermione smiled to herself as she eyed him, walking to sit across from him. He nodded at her as she sat down before turning once again to face the fire. "Alright there, Bookworm?"

"Could be worse, I guess," she shrugged, keeping her eyes on his relaxed figure. Platinum blonde locks framed his face, no longer gelled back, and falling in front of his eyes that—tonight—were a sharp grey. His once pointed face had softened slightly, although it was still flawless nonetheless. Years of Quidditch and a summer of training hard for the battles had toned the bodies of all the boys, and Hermione noticed the strength beneath her roommate's slender yet muscular figure. Ron, Harry and Blaise drifted forth in her thoughts and she smiled again; she was friends with four of the fittest males Hogwarts had to offer.

"I'm pretty sure your dear Ronnikens wouldn't appreciate that look you're giving me, Granger," she heard Malfoy comment. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Hermione turned away, blushing furiously. Draco couldn't help but smirk. Seconds of silence passed until he realized she probably wouldn't say anything. He mentioned the first thing that came to his head. "So, how's Ria doing?"

Hermione's head shot up so fast something in her neck cracked. Draco was surprised to see the panic in her eyes, but made sure to appear oblivious. He brought to mind the conversation with Blaise that had comforted him earlier that day, keeping it in the forefront of his thoughts. '_Blaise was right..._' he repeated to himself.

"She's…adjusting, I suppose," Hermione answered carefully, not meeting Draco's eyes as she spoke. "She's bored for the most part…and she still doesn't understand; she has nightmares…"

"Maybe it's time you let us try and help you," Draco suggested, his piercing gaze unfaltering.

"You _are_," Hermione protested, glancing at him before looking away again. She couldn't take the look in his eyes. It reminded her of the guilt she felt…and the fear…

"You know what I mean, Granger. As brilliant as you are, you can't take care of a Muggle, solve what might be the biggest mystery of the Wizarding World, study for N.E.W.T.S. _and_ be Head Girl at the same time—you'd explode." She looked at him now, a small smile on her face at his compliment and lighthearted reference to everything she was doing. "We want to help you, but we can't do that unless you let us."

She nodded, struggling to keep back tears that appeared when Draco Malfoy's last comment reached her ears. Out of nowhere, the image of a red-headed boy came to her mind and she wanted nothing more than for him to hold her close. The extent of all the emotions flying around within her magnified under Draco's softened gaze and she found herself amazed that he was in front of her as a friend. He deserved to know…they all did.

"Granger?"

"I'm okay," she choked out, her voice thick. He nodded, then sat back in his seat, eyes returning to the fire, his outward calm the exact opposite of the turmoil he felt within. For some reason, the conversation with Blaise was quickly losing the comfort it carried before.

After allowing Hermione a couple minutes to compose herself, he casually asked, "Have they found those escaped Death Eaters yet?"

Hermione shuddered, inhaling deeply. She met his eyes to answer; they were a stormy grey, now—darker than before—giving away the fact that the question wasn't asked for conversation's sake. She opened her mouth to answer…

…and was interrupted by a soul-shaking scream.

* * *

**A/N: I realized I stopped naming the chapters (the last few), so I figured why not start up again...? I forget things sometimes :P**


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the long absence. To tell you the truth, I had all but given up on this one. That is, until I woke up today completely inspired. So, I plan on finishing this one all the way through. Hopefully, before I start school again on the 22nd of January. We'll see how that goes P.

And as for a disclaimer? Well, I'm sure you know how that goes. But what the heck?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except a cozy Hogwarts blanket and my dreams .

Draco and Hermione rushed to the Room of Requirement, knowing without having to be told just whose scream that was. What they didn't expect, however, was seeing Albus Dumbledore step through the doors of their destination just as they arrived.

"Sir, is she alright?" Hermione asked, out of breath.

"Yes, she's fine for the time being, Miss Granger. However, I think it would be best to move her tonight; the Room of Requirement can be a lonely place and I believe it would be best if she were surrounded by friends at the moment."

"Yes, sir," Hermione agreed with a nod and a sigh of relief. "Will she be staying with Draco and me in the Head's Dormitory then?" Dumbledore thought for a moment, then nodded.

"I believe that arrangement might be better than our current one. Please, take this time to introduce our guest to Mr. Malfoy here, and then kindly inform your friends of the situation as well. I think it's time they knew everything, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione agreed again. No sooner had they wished Dumbledore goodnight, did Hermione turn to Draco, a fierce look in her eye.

"Listen, Draco—Ria has been though a lot. I know it's in your nature to use sarcasm and wit to smooth over a situation, but I'm telling you now, if you so much as make her shed one tear over something you've said, I'll have Peeves follow you for the rest of your natural life."

"Seriously, Granger—is that the best you could come up with?"

"That's exactly what I mean! Harry, Ron, Ginny and I are used to it—Ria needs kindness and compassion now, not your smart remarks. And besides—are you telling me having a poltergeist follow you around singing bawdy songs about you and throwing gum in your hair 24-hours a day, 7-days a week won't grow old?"

"Well when you put it like that…"

"Malfoy…"

"Oh!" Draco cried out, clutching his heart in mock pain. "She used the last name! Alright, alright," he appeased, seeing the look in her eye. "I'll play nice."

Satisfied, Hermione opened the door, beckoning Draco to follow.

"Shh—she's asleep."

It took Draco awhile to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. 'No wonder she's so depressed,' he thought to himself as he followed Hermione to the girl's bedside. 'I would be too if I had to live here all by myself.'

The Room had obviously gone to great lengths to keep its treasure well provided for. By the looks of it, her sleeping quarters alone was larger than the Head's Common Room, and that was saying something. Yet, for all the attempts at comfort, the sheer size of the place was enough to make one feel incredibly small and—just as Dumbledore had said—lonely. Though, Draco certainly wouldn't mind spending time here with his friends. It was an incredible set-up.

Finding nothing really at fault with his surroundings, Draco turned his attention to the girl laying in the bed. At first, he saw nothing but covers—loads and loads of covers on top of a barely breathing form. Slowly, his eyes traveled up the length of the bed, anticipation growing as he realized he was about to see the great secret that had almost cost Hermione her life.

"Wait—Draco," Hermione whispered, and Draco immediately turned his attention to his friend. There was a worry in her voice that scared him. "I think there's something you should know,"

A cold feeling settled in his stomach, his mind racing to fill in the obvious blank before Hermione did. Something he should know? What was it? Why did it put that look on her face? Was it fear?

"Granger, I'm not getting any younger here, you know…" The sound of his voice startled Hermione, and she remembered she was seconds away from sharing something with him that she hadn't even shared with Dumbledore. For the life of her, she couldn't remember why.

The strong urge to protect her Slytherin companion washed over Hermione, making her wish she hadn't brought it up in the first place. She didn't want to tell him anymore. She wanted him to be happy, to revel in the new bliss that came from the safety of a world without Voldemort, a bliss that came in having real friends that wanted him to forget the pain he had suffered.

"Granger? Should I conjure you up a hearing aid then?"

She was about to respond, about to find some reason to get him out of the room before chaos would ensue, but a rustling from the bed told her it was too late. Shit.

"Hermione? Is that you?"

Draco's eyes immediately shot to the source of the voice he heard, still husky with sleep, yet hauntingly beautiful. The instant they fell on her face, he wondered why it had taken him so long to look upon her before. It was as though the room dimmed, yet the face atop the pillow created its own light source. A face to match that voice. Dimly, he wondered what she looked like under the blankets.

"Shh—yes, I'm here, Ria, I'm here." Shock ran through Draco as he remembered Hermione was in the room as well, followed by annoyance. Who was this girl who made him lose focus so easily?

"Did Albus send you?"

"No, we heard you scream and we rushed here as soon as we could. We met Professor Dumbledore as soon as he was walking out of here."

"'We'?"

"Yes, me and Draco—he's a friend of mine, and he's going to help us, ok?"

Groggily, the girl tried to sit up in bed, something Draco could she she was failing miserably at. Hermione noticed as well, and helped her reposition herself, so as to wake up and observe her surroundings.

"Draco?"

"That would be me," Draco replied, clearing his throat. His chest constricted at the thought of having all of this girl's attention to himself.

She turned her head to see him, and he had to remind himself to breathe. She was so graceful in that movement alone; the twist of her head, the blinking of her long lashes, the hand that brushed her long black hair from her still sleepy eyes. He wondered where she got such full lips, and that halo that seemed to encircle her head. Couldn't Hermione see it?

Hermione winced as Ria turned to look at Draco, waiting for the scream she knew would come. When all she heard was silence, she opened her eyes. Brown eyes were curiously studying sharp grey ones. What?

"Did you have a bad dream then, Ria?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the girl from focusing on Draco for too long.

"Yes, but I can't remember it…I can never remember them…"

Relief flooded Hermione, who was glad to see that Ria wasn't about to run screaming at the sight of Draco. Rather, she looked entranced by the Slytherin, which worked out perfectly.

"Listen, Ria—Professor Dumbledore wants you to move in with Draco and me in the Head's Dormitory, so you won't have to be alone all the time. We'll take care of you there, until we can sort all of this out, alright?"

"Yeah, I don't know about you, but company would be nice after what you've gone through," Draco added, immediately regretting opening his mouth. Sadness filled Ria's eyes as his words brought to surface memories she obviously was trying to forget. He wished he could take them back—even more so when Hermione's angry eyes met his.

"Hey, why don't you get some rest while Draco and I look for Harry and Ron—I've told you about them, remember? They're friends too," Hermione soothed, trying to change the subject.

"Why don't you find them and bring them here? They're probably in the Gryffindor Common Room, and I'm not exactly allowed in there, Head Boy or not. Besides—I'd like to get to know Ria more. After all, she's going to be living with us. Er—if that's all right with you," he added, looking to Ria for approval. She nodded slowly, finally turning her eyes to look at Hermione.

"I'll be fine here, you can bring your friends—I'd like to meet them."

Hesitantly, Hermione agreed, sending Draco a look that clearly told him to watch it. If anything was wrong with Ria when she got back, he'd have hell to pay. He gave her a small nod in assurance, and Hermione voiced her "see you later"s before slowly walking out the door.

Once Hermione was out of sight, the air in the room immediately relaxed.

"Ugh, thank God," Ria sighed, slumping against her pillows. Draco, confused, found himself grinning and wondering where this change came from. "I'm sorry—" she quickly began to apologize, looking at him once again and making him feel as though the breath was knocked from his lungs. "It's not that I don't like Hermione or anything—I love her! She's been so good to me ever since everything happened…it's just…I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm some terminal case."

"Last time I checked, we were all terminal cases, if you will," Draco replied, his grin growing.

"Technically yes, but I'm not made of fine China. My dad's dead—I get it. I can't do much because he was killed by magic—I get it. I'm stuck here until you people decide what to do with me—I get it. I've dealt with death before—I've had to deal with it my whole life. I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I'm about to break or something…"

"Well, for starters, maybe you should stop acting like it," Draco suggested, delighting in the way her eyebrows raised in surprise, and those lush lips parted ever so slightly. Obviously, she wasn't used to people talking to her like this.

"Well how the hell am I supposed to act? Hermione still hasn't gotten over everything, apparently, and Albus has to be the most intimidating man I've ever met in my life."

"Fair enough—Granger does take a while to grieve," Draco agreed solemnly. "And Professor Dumbledore can scare a fair few people if he's got a mind to. So—why drop your guard for me?"

She looked at him, her dark brown eyes studying his sharp grey ones. For a second, he expected her to come up with an answer profound enough to leave him more breathless than he already was. Instead, she just shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out?"

"Yeah," he agreed, reminding himself to exhale and wondering just why he needed to. "We will."


End file.
